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I think I must’ve given the fever to Tamara, because I’m feeling better now. Tamara, for her part, is making potato soup. I’m looking forward to coming home. Of course, I’m always looking forward to coming home, because I hate my job. The boss seems to be in pretty good spirits today, though. He seemed genuinely concerned about my well-being when he talked to me this morning. I told him that the internal hemorrhaging had finally subsided, that it only hurts when I laugh. He said that the testing was looking good, and we were right on track for a good release. I leaned forward and vomited on his shoes. He told me to be a trooper and went back to his cube to join a conference call.